


break or bow down (you decide)

by Lissy



Series: The Mistress of Death [4]
Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Female Harry Potter, Gen, I basically gutted Guilty Pleasures before the end of the first act, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:09:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29708661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lissy/pseuds/Lissy
Summary: “But you know what, Zachary?” Hari’s voice loses its good humor; it’s so cold and dead that it sounds like it came from someone else entirely. “Deathalwayscollects.”
Series: The Mistress of Death [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1171424
Comments: 23
Kudos: 148





	break or bow down (you decide)

Anita glares at Nikolaos, terror and fear making an all too consuming cocktail inside of her. She’s never been rolled like that, never been so utterly helpless. And the fucked up part? She has no doubt that Nikolaos was barely trying.

Her eyes stray over to Jean-Claude. He’s striking, as still and beautiful as polished marble, and Anita knows that he won’t lift a finger to help her. Not in the face of Nikolaos’ fury, and she can’t even blame him. As much as she hates it, at this moment, Anita isn’t even sure if she’d help him if their roles were reversed.

“Oh, we have found something the animator fears,” Nikolaos coos, her lips stretched into a terrifying parody of a smile. Her voice has gone back to lilting and pleasant, and it sends an awful shiver down Anita’s spine. Nikolaos opens her mouth to speak again, but someone interrupts her before she can get the chance.

“You’re a creepy little bitch, aren’t you?”

Anita’s not the only one who snaps her head over to look at the newcomer. How in the hell she didn’t see this woman at first, Anita has no clue. She’s beautiful in a way that makes Anita wonder if she’s even human.

Pale, ivory skin, unruly pitch-black hair tied into a high ponytail, bangs framing her heart-shaped face, emerald green eyes seemingly glowing as she levels an impressed look at the room. She’s probably as tall as Anita herself, but there’s something about her mere presence that makes her seem larger-than-life.

“Who are you?” Nikolaos spits, narrowing her eyes at the strange woman. Anita’s just glad to not be on the receiving end of Nikolaos’ attention anymore.

The woman must have a death wish, because she ignores Nikolaos and focuses her gaze on the man that Anita swears she knows from somewhere. She starts walking towards him, her thick leather boots audibly tapping against the floor. Her blood red Victorian jacket is the only splash of color on her, with a tail trailing down to her knees. Black leather pants are molded to her curvy legs like a second skin.

Before she can get too far, Theresa launches herself at the woman, bearing her fangs in an ugly snarl. Anita almost flinches when Theresa rips the woman’s throat out. Blood spurts out in a gory spray of crimson. No normal human could survive such a devastating blow.

Except this woman… _isn’t_ human.

She can’t be, not with the way her very flesh starts to knit before their eyes, closing so seamlessly until the only evidence of her mortal wound is the blood decorating the floor. Those eerie green eyes look _bored_ , as if Theresa’s killing blow was a mosquito bite.

A slim hand strikes out, delicate fingers wrapping around Theresa’s throat, and Anita has to both blink and shake her head to make sure she’s not hallucinating.

Theresa isn’t a master vampire, but she is still a vampire. And yet Anita watches in stunned disbelief as Theresa starts to age. Her skin loses its glow, dulling as it starts to prune, wrinkles forming and liver spots developing. Silky black hair starts to lighten, fading from grey to white in a matter of minutes.

And all the while, Theresa doesn’t scream. She lets out a small “Oh!” as if she’s startled, and then falls quiet as her face eases into one of serenity. When the woman lets go, Theresa falls to the floor and bursts into dust.

“…mon dieu,” Jean-Claude breathes, those gorgeous eyes of his startled.

“I’m afraid God has nothing to do with this.” Her voice is soft, accented. She glances around the room, scanning each of them.

“You killed my servant,” Nikolaos hisses, but she doesn’t rush for the woman. She stays back, guarded and cautious.

“She got in my way,” the woman says. “And if you don’t want to end up like her, I suggest you let me go about my business.”

“And what exactly is your business here?” Jean-Claude smoothly interjects.

She turns to him and stares for a few moments. Her gaze isn’t lustful like most women’s, but rather narrowed on him as if sizing him. Then she smiles and says, “My name is Hari Potter, and I’m the Mistress of Death.”

Anita watches in confusion as the vampires stiffen. She doesn’t understand why that’s what makes them freeze and not seeing her _turn Theresa to dust_.

“We have not broken any laws,” Jean-Claude says carefully. “And if we did, the Harlequin would be here to set us to rights.”

Hari lets out a small hum. “You haven’t,” she admits easily. Her eyes turn back to the familiar strange man. “But _you_ have, haven’t you, darling?”

He shudders violently. “I d-don’t know what you m-mean,” he chokes out.

“Oh, I think you do,” she purrs. And then something thick and heavy blankets the air, and it’s so heady that Anita swoons from her place on the floor.

“Zachary?” Nikolaos questions, narrowing her eyes at the blond. “What have you done?”

With a breathless whimper, Zachary decides to try to make a break for it. He slips on the blood still coating the floor, landing prone and winded, and before he can even think of getting back up, Hari is upon him. She hauls him to her feet easily, and he grasps at her hands, trying to claw his way to freedom.

“Zachary here tried to disobey the natural order,” Hari says cheerfully. “He thought to cheat death here with magic he doesn’t understand. I believe you had a slew of vampire murders recently?”

Anita’s eyes widen, and suddenly it all clicks. _That’s_ why she recognized him; she went to his funeral!

“Traitor!” Nikolaos shrieks. If the warrior beside her hadn’t held her back, she surely would’ve launched herself at Zachary.

“But you know what, Zachary?” Hari’s voice loses its good humor; it’s so cold and dead that it sounds like it came from someone else entirely. “Death _always_ collects.”

“Please,” Zachary gasps, his eyes wide with terror. “Please! _Please_!”

Hari smiles blankly, and Anita knows that she wasn’t moved by his pleading. Zachary knows it, too; he bucks against her like a wild animal, trying to loosen her grip, but she holds him up even higher, until his feet dangle uselessly in the air.

And then she does something that Anita knows will stay in her nightmares until the day she dies.

Hari opens her mouth. Her eyes glow a deadly, acidic green as she sucks at the air, and Anita is horrified when she realizes that Hari is _sucking the souls out of Zachary_. Anita doesn’t even know how she knows it, but she can feel it with perfect clarity. Her magic rattles inside her, as if it wants to escape, but Anita is rooted to the ground, too scared shitless to even contemplate what’s going on.

Zachary wails the entire time. Thin trails of white light escape his own mouth, and one after the other Hari collects. He grows weaker and weaker until he lets out horrible, choking gasps. With one final gurgle, he finally falls limp.

Hari drops him unceremoniously. She licks her lips before turning to Nikolaos. “Death does not appreciate those who go against the natural order,” she says idly, as if she’s talking about the weather. “How did you let this happen under your watch?”

Nikolaos narrows her eyes. “We were solving the problem.”

Hari scoffs. “So you’re just that incompetent. I see.” She spies Anita on the floor. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a Necromancer.”

Anita swallows thickly, licking her lips. “I’m… just an animator.”

Hari cocks an eyebrow, then shrugs. “Your denial is not my problem.”

“I am Master of the City,” Nikolaos snarls. “Nobody turns away from me.”

“You’re an incompetent Master of the City who can’t even tell when someone under your employ is betraying you and slaughtering those under your care,” Hari points out. She walks towards Nikolaos, uncaring that the prepubescent vampire is seething with barely concealed rage. “Do you know _why_ vampires aren’t considered an aberration against the natural order? It’s because you can still _die_. You can still be _killed_. Your many years of life have given you the false impression that you’re immortal, and Death has sent me to remind you that you’re very much not.”

It happens far quicker than it had with Theresa. One minute Nikolaos is practically frothing at the mouth, and the next she’s crumbling to dust. She doesn’t even have time to scream, though the human next to her does plenty for the both of them, collapsing to his knees and clawing violently at his face.

“How can you do that?” Anita doesn’t even realize she spoke until Hari answers.

“I’m the Mistress of Death. All I did was start the aging process again; the older the vampire, the quicker they become nothing more than ash.” Hari smooths down invisible wrinkles on the front of her jacket. She pins Jean-Claude with her still-glowing eyes. “With her gone, who will succeed as Master of the City?”

His throat moves as he swallows, and his accent is even thicker than normal as he says, “That would be me.”

Hari nods her head and smiles. “I trust _you_ won’t make me have to come back to sort out any more messes.”

A warning and a promise.

“Non, ma mort,” he breathes.

She nods her head. “Excellent. It’s been a _very_ long time since I’ve been on the mortal realm, and I must confess, being called down just for work puts me in quite the nasty mood.”

Jean-Claude takes in a tremulous breath, and then he holds out his arm. “Now that business is taken care of, if you want, perhaps I can show you the pleasures of this world.”

Hari blinks as if surprised, and then she throws her head back and laughs. It’s a rich, warm sound, so unlike the creature that devoured Zachary’s soul as he begged and pleaded. “You know what? I just might take you up on that offer.”

It’s surreal, how Jean-Claude slips into the role of the perfect gentleman, escorting Hari out of the building and starting up a conversation about how far the world has come.

Anita stays where she’s at, trembling and trying to control her rapidly beating heart. She stares at the piles of dust on the floor, Zachary’s already decaying corpse, and the other man’s still form.

Maybe it’s time to consider sticking to only her animating job.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't plan on writing a sequel to this story in particular. I just had this idea in my head and couldn't let it go. But I do plan on writing another HP/AB crossover at some point! Probably with Rafael/Hari at a minimum.
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr](https://fanlissy.tumblr.com/).  
> Join my [Discord server](https://discord.gg/w2QmPzH).


End file.
